Sharply Buffed in the Eighty Years War - The Battle of Hogs-Mill Run

Sharply Buffed in the rules adaptation for Renaissance War actions using Sharp Practice II that was published in the Lardy Summer Special 2017 and written by Nick Worthington.
Too Fat Lardies - Summer Special 2017

Thank you to David for our report on the action at Hogs Mill Run

If only he’d known what was going on, he thought, as he chewed ruminatively on the bacon rasher.
He hadn’t a clue. He didn’t know who was who or what was what or what did what to whom or how
well they did it. He’d only gone into the village, past the two buxom wenches, out of idle curiosity.
And then he found he was defending the place from - well, he wasn’t quite sure, but there seemed a lot of them.

“Take command of these two units and defend the ford, I’ll defend the bridge” said the voice. Well, at least someone knew what they were doing, he thought. Just then, a crashing volley rang out from nowhere, smashing into the flank of one of his newly acquired units. Even he knew this was not ‘a good thing’. Somehow the unit survived and managed to line the river bank, where it delivered a  distinctly underwhelming volley. Another volley from somewhere saw his unit scuttling back to his command post.

He could hear firing from the bridge. Things seem to be under control there, with neat blocks of somethings with other things on their right flank pouring volleys into an enemy which was keeping a
respectful distance – unlike his flank ,where the enemy were closing on the ford with alarming rapidity.

“You take these,” said the voice.

Now ‘These’ looked much more promising. Firstly, they were mounted, secondly, they sported some
serious looking heavy armour, and thirdly, they carried things they could shoot with. Reinforcements
were also arriving near the buxom wenches. Things were decidedly looking up.

He devised a plan. His mounted lobsters would execute a glorious charge across the ford and pierce
a hole in the enemy line. He would then flood through the gap and drive the enemy from the field.
Already an enemy unit carrying pointy things had respectfully withdrawn, obviously fearing the
oncoming onslaught. He launched the charge and watched with satisfaction as the mounted lobsters
punched a hole through the enemy line.

Now was the time for decisive action, press home the advantage. He strode forward purposefully,
failing to see a sow suckling her young at his feet. He fell headlong into the pig mire.

He had imagined his first command post to be a lofty eminence, where he could look down, eagle eyed, on the field of battle. Or maybe the high tower of a luxurious chateau. Or perhaps even dare he dream, a windmill with a specially constructed gallery for him to pace up and down, arms behind his back, head bowed in deep thought. But, a pigsty, really?

He got slowly to his feet, a stabbing pain in his ankle. He could see that ‘bad things’ had happened.
The mounted lobsters were nowhere to be seen, the enemy unit carrying pointy things had somehow crossed the ford and were wreaking havoc. Where were the reinforcements? Being delayed by the buxom wenches, no doubt.

“Army moral broken,” said the voice, gleefully. “I’m off.”

He had to admit it, he’d been pretty inept. He’d lost everything. Well, not quite he thought, tossing
another pork chop into the sizzling pan.

My thanks to Bob, Nathan and Mr Steve for participating in an entertaining and enjoyable game and
particularly to Colin, who set up the scenario and provided the beautiful figures and terrain. A pleasure and privilege to use.